Dark Angel of Song: An Adam Lambert Story
by margaret divine spark
Summary: Story about platonic love realized with superstar Adam Lambert and the intensity of the feeling.


Dark Angel Of Song

An Adam Lambert Fanfiction Novella

By Margarita Sky Blue Evans.

Chapter 1

Adam Lambert was the Season 8 Runner-Up of American Idol, the hit-singing competition that has been on for a whopping almost 10 years, over 10 different seasons, two seasons in it's first year in 2002, and to this day, the show is still going strong. But Adam is far from his American Idol days. It was because of American Idol that his name became known to America, and thanks to his performance of "For Your Entertainment", the first single of his debut album of the same name, in November 2009, days before the official debut-album release, his name was heard all around the world for all the wrong reasons, in my opinion, just because of the narrow mindedness of most Americans, so black and white. I am Puerto Rican and only American by citizenship. I wasn't born in Continental US, Alaska or Hawaii, therefore not an American by blood or even by descendance, but don't mind me. I'm just the narrator of this story, and yes, my editorial comments are included in Chapter 1 because those comments are how this story starts, never allowing fans to forget the true origin of Adam Lambert, the star. The Idol.

Adam Lambert was on his way to a new session of the recording of his second official album, which was due out for release in Spring of 2012. Today was November 4, 2011, and just when Adam Lambert went about his routine of getting his morning smoothie and heading off to work..

A random but unfriendly man, very passionate, appeared before him, although not passionate when it came to love, like Adam was. "Hey, Adam, nasty Glambert rat of sewers, child of the devil, Satan worshipper, homosexual plague of humanity, yes, you! I am talking to you! After all the stints you've pulled, I know I am worthy of your full attention and all your time!"

This man expected Adam to turn out to be the typical superstar, except he wasn't. To this day, after so many years of ardent work, blood, sweat, and more tears than blood and sweat, Adam turned out to be the closest thing to the guy next door, as in the unknown-to-this-day, never-been-discovered kind of _artist._ An artist. Not a star. Adam, surprising himself, interacted with the man like the man was his best friend in the manner that he didn't react the way the stranger expected. Adam pulled over and the man followed him. Adam got out of the car. This man seemed out of control, and Adam didn't want him to go out and do something crazy just for being ignored by the diabolical superstar straight from the pits of helll nicknamed Glambert.

"Oh, you _pulled over for me_. You actually _pulled over_ when all I wanted was a simple _signal_ you'd heard me and gotten my message," the man said, with a hiss all throughout, like a snake ready to swallow whole a helpless rabbit. "I call that downright conniving and manipulative. Typical pseudo-idol Adam Lambert behavior! Or would you rather have me call you _Glambert?_"

"Just call me Adam," this man's attitude had Adam shedding tears, but not really breaking down. "If you want to talk to me, you call me _Adam_ and you treat me like an enemy you want to reproach, and that's of course not famous. Would we please play some kind of random mind game for a second and have you tell me what it is I did to deserve this from you? Huh? I am working for my _daily bread_ here. Doesn't a _man_ have the right to work for his daily bread?"

"Ahhhh..."

"That's right. I am working. It's clear you don't agree with my day job, but I am working nonetheless, and I believe as long as a _human being_ is not selling his or her body, or making money by breaking the law, it doesn't really matter the profession he or she chooses as long as he or she gets food in his or her table. We're back in recession, man. Black Friday's coming, again. It's a cycle. If it happened once, it's going to happen again, because this beautiful planet can only go one way, round and round. I can't afford to miss a day of work on my project. I am recording a brand-new album that has a release date. I am missing one session to dedicate my time to you to find out what could've driven you to call me out in the middle of traffic, get out of your car and just..."

"I..."

"Why didn't you upload a video of yourself to YouTube calling me out or something? You can be sure that had it exceeded 1 million views, it would've gotten my attention, and I would've watched it, from beginning to end. I wouldn't have _responded,_ because I can't be on YouTube all day responding to everything people do there related to me, it's flat-out impossible, but you would've gotten my attention, and I would've provided some commentary, if they had asked me about the "Leave Britney Alone" rendition from you, titled, "Glambert the Spawn of Satan Leave Us Alone".

"Adam, I don't appreciate..."

"I thought I was Glambert."

"I'm much older than you. I could be your father."

"Except you're not, friend. You are someone I'd never seen before that reprimanded me like he was Eber Lambert. Only Eiber or Leila Lambert can talk to me like that, and even punch me out or slap me silly if they want to, not you, not anybody else. I refuse to be treated like a child by someone who has no authority over me whatsoever. My parents do not treat me like that. Why should I let you get away with it, because you're close to their age? I don't think so, with all due respect. Forget Glambert. Forget the American-Idol Runner-Up. You do not get to talk to a 29-year-old the way you just did me, if you're not the father or at least a father figure to that adult, regardless of gender, or if you're not a legal guardian because of legal incompetence."

"I'm sorry. It was all a riff," said the always child-like acting man, prank lover, except he took his pranks to the extreme, and everything had been documented on camera!

Adam rolled his eyes and then covered his face with both hands, and this time he really broke down and cried, getting on his knees. His heart had been pounding, him worried to death of missing one session of recording his album, dedicating sweet time to someone he thought he was to the brink of murder or suicide, and it turned out to be a joke! A joke? Was he serious? What a cruel joke it was, the only joke that had gotten him crying like a three-year-old, and he hadn't cried this way since he made the first round of American Idol Season 8 back in 2009, seeing the effort of his hard work he'd done all his life and professed for nine years before.

It wasn't funny. It wasn't a random reaction. This came from the heart of the man nicknamed Glambert. The man and his friends surrounded him asking if he was okay.

"I hardly ever say that name out loud, but Oh, my God, that was the cruelest prank I'd ever been subjected to." Adam got up and tried to clean off his tears, and he was given some Kleenex to blow his nose. "If you do this on an every day basis, to be honest, and no disrespect meant at all, but I feel sorry for you guys' friends and family because when it comes to pranks, your pranks are monstrous. My humble advice: You will cause heart attacks, strokes, and freak accidents. Please stop."

"Gee, we didn't think..."

"From the cameras I understand you probably going to," Adam said, sniffling, "upload this to your YouTube channel, and I am not going to sue for life-endangerment or extreme distress because that was not your intention and I am not an inclement asshole, but please don't do this again. You by all means have my total permission to upload this for my fans and detractors to laugh their asses off about Adam Lambert being owned, and for you to be pimped and congratulated for being the only ones to make twenty-nine-year-old Adam Lambert cry like a three-year-old. Kudos to you, just tone down your pranks a bit, okay?"

"We're sorry, man."

When Adam left, the guys added content to their video. Wilbert, having passed off as a sixty-year-old, but being only twenty-one... - said, "And we hereby repeat everything he said. We do not do this to people every day, only on April Fool's every year." The other guys were laughing like crazy in the background and the camera went around focusing on all of them for a few seconds each one. "We do not get a high on frightening people to death. We just wanted to make one person shit on his pants, and one person alone. Ready guys, wait for it, wait for it...

"Who is it?" They said and screamed out at the top of their lungs, "ADAM MITCHEL LAMBERT!"

Nathan said, "Why did we do this? you might ask, Glamberts. Don't pounce on us. Don't go around posting ardent hate toward us in comments and video-responses against us. We did this because we love Glambert, Adam Lambert, Adam Mitchel Lambert, Idol Lambert, or whatever you want to call him..." he did this like in a run while performing a song, a voice run. "And we dedicated our sweet time to outline this, make diagrams, come up with possible scenarios of the," and then said in singing voice, "aftermath" with another run, "and we did all this because we wanted to own Adam on our YouTube channel. We wanted to be the next Chris Crocker basically, getting everyone's attention for owning a superstar, or defending one, and for our video prank to Adam to get so many views that it would cause the Maury show or the new Rosie Show to call us, too, and of course, this goes in a second video. The original video stops when we say to Adam that we're sorry. So Adam, we love you, we're sorry for holding up such an important project that we got a burn in the heart waiting for, and not because of stomach acid..."

Dylan cleared his throat.

"...And for making you cry. It wasn't our intention to make Glambert cry like that. We acknowledge Glambert didn't deserve that because he's the sweetest to his fans, a total Carebear..."

"Yeah," said Javier.

"Unless you cross the line, of course, like the lady with the phone..." they cleared throat again, "look it up, it's still on YouTube and it'll be on YouTube for the life of the site! But yes, we acknowledge we went way too far, and we're literally willing to do anything to make it up to him. Hint, Dylan couldn't be more of a total pillow-biter. Dylan will send his phone number directly to your face-book account, so you can call him up and arrange a romp."

Dylan was blushing. It was disrespect toward his privacy or his sexuality, offering him in a silver platter to a seemingly-always-dominant gay superstar, but in reality, this was Dylan's darkest sexual fantasy, to be dominated and abused by will, by virtue of loving-sessions too long, with a random superstar, any superstar...

But Glambert? The mere image of it made him get chills up and down his spine over and over again, and then electric shocks.

They posted Dylan's phone number right on Adam's facebook wall behind Dylan's back. One more prank, the cruelest of them all, although, again, that was not their intention, but an Average Joe's hook up with a seemingly-exceedingly sexual and scorching-hot superstar was something the Average Joe was very unlikely to survive. Scary shit. Addictive. Dylan was in grave danger of becoming Adam's helpless slave.

Not a slave to his music, like the narrator of this story.

Not a slave to his lovemaking, like no one was in reality.

But a slave to his sexiness, to his love.

Not a sex slave.

A literal love slave.

Downright frightening shit.

The sun went down that night, and in his five to ten minutes of free time after a day of ardent work, Adam checked his facebook account for random messages from adoring fans and to post updates about his album and upcoming super-tour. He noticed a fan had left his phone number there to contact him and deleted the wall post after writing the number right in the palm of his hand with a Sharpie marker he'd used to sign an autograph for a sixteen-year-old dedicated girl fan. Frightened thousands of people might've called up Dylan by now to harass and terrorize him, adam called up Dylan.

The phone rang at Dylan's apartment. He picked it up and rather than saying hello, he yelled, "You assholes! How dared you post my phone number on the wall of the real Adam Lambert? You have any idea how many people called me asking me if they could be my real-life facebook friends, as in 'let's meet in real life, you're really cool...'

"This is Adam."

"Oh, come on, Nathan, don't do this to me. We both know how great your Glambert impressions are! Your voice sounds just like his when you talk and you've done so much research you've learned the way he talks and his vocabulary and mannerisms down to the very last detail. Come on."

"Can he imitate my voice to perfection? Can he provide a perfect rendition of any of my songs?" Adam offered a rendition of a song that wasn't a single of the For Your Entertainment album, "Sleepwalker". Scary shit, considering what was written in their books of life by the cruelest author of all. Fate.

Dylan felt he could've dropped dead after cardiac arrest right then and there. Now it was he crying helpless baby. "Oh... my...Go-o-od...it's you, fucker!"

Adam smiled and Dylan noted his sweetness about it in the background. "It was my only way to prove I wasn't Nathan, my impersonator. I am considering hiring him to do one of my interviews, concealed in a Phantom-of-the-Opera kinda mask with the excuse he's had an accident and he can't show his face." Adam laughed. "No, seriously..."

"I know..."

"You want to do a meet-and-greet? If your friends went thru such great lengths to reacquire my attention after the stint they pulled today and understanding I was mad but unwilling to take action, but still determined to keep hunting me down, I think these fans are so determined that by having direct contact with you and giving you my autograph and taking a picture with you they will have gotten my message, 'Hey guys, you got my complete attention! Stop calling back at me and calling me out! The prank is over! I'm over it! I said what I wanted to say from the bottom of my heart! Get over it too, why don't you?' Seriously, I may seem to be all aggressive, but I am anything but rancorous. The only thing that will prevent me from getting over something really fucked up that happened would be a criminal case open against me, formal, or a lawsuit. If it doesn't get up to that point, it's over. It's done. And I'm done."

"A meet and greet with you would be amazing, but to my understanding, the only concert here on my city for this tour just happened tonight, man! I missed my flight!"

"No, you didn't. We can meet at a hotel..."

Dylan felt hot tears streaming down his eyes and then speechlessness.

"...For an autograph and a picture of course. And you can bring the guys who owned me with you right along with you because if y'all started this together, the scariest prank against me of all my life, you've got to meet me together, every single one of you, if you really want to settle the score once and for all."

"Yo, you've just made me recall the most frightening lyrics of your forbidden release, "Beg For Mercy"!"

"Oh, that was random. I was just..."

"Don't retaliate against us man."

"Retaliate?" Adam burst out laughing. "It takes a lot more than what you guys did to get Adam Mitchel Lambert to _retaliate._ Had I gotten into a crash or been run over by a car because of your childish, but brilliant prank, I would've retaliated! Oh, yeah, before the day had been over, you would've been arrested by a nice cop, all of you, and you'd be locked up right now for manslaughter or attempted murder. Now that's retaliation."

"You've just shown me the only side of you, the only aspect of you that keeps me from keep falling in love." He covered his mouth. Oopsie!

"I understand you're enamored. Every Glamfan is, regardless of gender, so don't feel embarrassed. How you express your love to Glambert will confirm without a shadow of a doubt just what kind of love you have for me, because once again, callback to people that are not writers, this also applies to you...showing vs. telling, Showing is more important. There should be more showing than telling! OK, Kiddies? OK, now, we can all gather at the Bellavida Hotel about two miles from my current location, at the lobby, in the table, to have a snack and a talk to resolve this impromptu conflict you guys incited, because remember I was minding my own sweet business and on my way to record a few parts of one of the songs in my album, voice prepared, and all of a sudden, not you, but your prank made me cry and ruined everything. Now tomorrow I am going to have to work twice as hard to make up for today."

"I appreciate you emphasizing we weren't to blame, but our foolish, infantile prank."

"Exactly! You guys meant nothing by it, but man, that really scared me. I feel like retaliating in reality by kissing one of you till I leave you gasping for breath. Eenie, meenie, minie, mo..."

"Oh, my God...!"

"I'm going to get you having nightmares tonight! Return ownage delivered! Oh, yeah, and I am posting this to YouTube as a video response, just the last part." Adam cut the call, leaving Dylan quivering and then lying down on the floor in fetal position.

The big day arrived. The guys were jumping around and doing sommersaults and Dylan was still quivering and crying, now more than ever, and his brain was sending constant messages to his spine rendering him handicapped, unable to walk and coordinate.

"Dylan, what's with you, man?" Todd teased. "Do you need a wheelchair, darling?"

Sauli, yes, another Sauli, but very Arab-looking and American-living, slapped Todd on the back of the neck. "Man's pissing his pants here over and over and you're bullying him, man? Grow up! He has to change and we don't even have clothes to provide for him to change into! This man's got him undone and into a thousand pieces, and you add salt to the wound?"

"Sauli, chill. You know Todd's never going to literally grow up. He's only a man in the body and in the...but in the mind, the child in him will never quit. It will always creep and then come out when it's least expected, get it? Leave Todd alone. Todd loves Dylan. We all do. It's not our fault he's literally in love with Adam beyond idolization and fandom. Dylan and Adam are about the same clothes-size. I'm sure Adam will get compassionate and give a whole attire of his clothing for Dylan to wear. About the undergarments? To be honest I don't know, but beyond that, in the pants and the tops?"

They arrived at the lobby. Adam Lambert, Thomas, "Tommy" Ratliff, Monte Pittman and Sauli Koskinen, Koskinen disguised, were waiting for them right there at one of the tables, impossible to miss, thus Ratliff and Lambert insisted on standing out among the crowd, Adam embodying Glam in the physical and Tommy just plain crazy, with his black lipstick and his...androgyny, heterosexual-man, put-on-a-show, just for the stage kind of androgyny. Adam yelled out, "Hey, how are my fake archenemies! As you know I couldn't have gotten here by my lonesome before such a passionate fan in every sense of the word because his behavior and responses to my behavior make me cry like a toddler having a tantrum all over again! I don't like that. I don't like crying unless I'm receiving an award, and like a child? To be honest that brings back the darkest childhood memories. Total trauma. And we want to have a good, _harmless_ time, as in non-traumatizing aftermath kind of good, harmless time."

Adam's guests of honor sat down.

"So...tell me how you became obsessed enough to come up with the most-frightening prank in history, against a superstar, by far one of the most sensitive you could ever come across. I break a nail and I feel horrible because my hands will not look glam enough for my Glitterbabies. How, knowing me as well as you do, and my ways, how the hell did you not think twice before executing your _master plan_ that you would bring this manly man in mental maturity, down to his knees, and make him _beg for mercy?_

Monte didn't know what to say to that one, so he just turned to look at Sauli Koskinen, who concealed a smile behind his POTO mask.

"You think it's a joke? That's the way I literally felt. I couldn't sleep that night. You know how hard my real-life Glitterbaby had to work to make me feel safe again? You had me calling Mommy and Daddy, and crying. No one had gotten me to do that since American Idol, when I got over the exhilaration of getting my golden ticket to Hollywood and it echoed in my mind, Simon Cowell calling my performace of "Bohemian Rhapsody", 'teatrical'."

"Ouch!" commented Koskinen, distorted voice. "Cowell sure knows how to lacerate a heart forever. "I would've thrown the ticket away, ran back home, and never even tried it again, seriously. 'Theatrical'? Simon overdoes the rude-boy, rude-judge kind of thing. I think he should slow down and grow up. It's been almost ten years of him in Idol, a few more years in competitions like it."

"Go, Phantom of the Opera!" screamed Todd. "Ownage delivered to Cowell! Yes!"

"Word," Tommy said, hesitant and turned to look at Monte.

"No disrespect to the Ultimate Talent Manager. Just expressing a humble opinion because that was your only somewhat-negative comment to my idol, and every time after that, pure and raw love and unconditional support. Go, Simon! Yeah!"

The guys cracked up laughing.

Todd pulled out his Nikon Coolpix Crimson-colored digital camera with video-recording capability and a freshly-installed 4-GB SD card for a few long videos worth of recording capacity. "What do you say we skip the comments on the master heartbreaker of the industry of seeking talent, the ultimate destroyer of dreams, and document," he suggested, turning the camera on, "what's going to happen next, the autographs and the pictures?"

"I have the same plans for Dylan's buddies and other plans for Dylan. Is the SD card on that big enough?"

"Oh, yes."

Dylan hadn't pronounced a word all throughout. "I need clothes. I had a...wardrobe malfunction."

"Hey..." he made up a fake name for Koskinen, "Abel, go to my room and get the man some clothes, and some boxers just in case we don't coincide in the size of the..." he cleared his throat.

Koskinen got up. "Yes, Cain." He left to Adam's room.

The guys went into laughter hysterics. They needed water.

Now.

After the autographs and the picture, Adam convinced Koskinen and Dylan to do switcheroos and have Koskinen leave with Adam's crew. Koskinen and Adam had agreed that this was not literal cheating, just a scheme to scare these bullies out of their pants. No sex. Adam would never cheat on his love. It was just a stage thing, but it was a kiss that, had it been on stage, would've sent the fans into an endless scream-o-rama.

Alone with Adam, and Todd's camera about to start recording without Dylan's knowledge, Dylan had no idea what was next, and the anticipation had him ruining his boxers.

Except not exactly with urine or feces.

"Hey, Dylan, I don't mean to take advantage. This is all part of a plan my real-life, true, one and only boyfriend and love came up with to teach you all a lesson. You can riff, make fun of Adam Lambert all you want. People do it all the time, even celebrities, and I laugh till I drop out, 1000 Ways To Die Laughing Fit Style. Understand?"

"OK. So what's your master plan?"

"What I told you on the phone, remember? Eenie, meenie, minie, mo? The 'mo' is you. I don't plan on touching them. I know they're arrows, if you know what I mean. The only straight guy I'd kiss the way I do is Ratliff, adn that's only for your entertainment, no riff meant."

"I know."

"Are you really a passive homosexual, or did your buddies just say those things in my wall to do you in with me?"

"I am passive, but I am no pillow-biter. All they did was exaggerate the truth, and they did not lie."

"This is really none of my business, you know?" Camera started recording at Adam's press of the button. "The only reason why I want to know is to see if they're bullies to everyone or just me."

"They've bullied me all my life, but in the end it's all just a game and that's why I always forgive them and don't turn my back on them. They're my friends. My homies. Part of my _crew_. I love them. Oh, and they know _about _my homosexuality, not _of it, _not by personal experience, because I haven't even kissed any one of them. Ever. I have ultimate respect for the _arrows._ They have no problem with gays and lesbians either, and their adoration for you is more than irrefutable proof, something that slaps you hard in the face, right in the face, impossible to overlook. They do it for fun, for their own twisted entertainment, when they're bored, around me and have nothing else to do, they post videos of them making fun of me, but never when i'm not around. Or they surprise me with pranks more infantile than they did to you, like putting cream cheese on my toothpaste tube and getting me to brush my teeth with that."

Adam looked at the camera. "I love the way you love your friends, CruelCrew!" calling out the username on YouTube of the group of friends. "I wish I could've gotten away with that with my friends without losing them when I was younger, but it's time _you_," he emphasized last word, pointing at the camera, "grew up and left your buddy alone. Forget about Simon growing up. He's grown, just blunt. I appreciate bluntness. I prefer it over hypocrisy any day. I just cried that day because I felt like I hadn't impressed Simon, and you ought to know the contestants feel like they already won Idol or Xfactor by impressing Simon from the very first audition."

"I thought he'd really hurt your feelings and I was angry with him for that. For that reason I uploaded a video making all those statements about him."

"Ever get a response?"

"Yes, definitive, but not exactly as venomous as I'd expected. He just uploaded a video on his official Facebook account with our YouTube user name on the title and literally laughing his ass off throughout the whole seven-minute video and declaring at the end, his signature heart piercing line. "That was absolutely dreadful," then he laughed some more and camera went off.

"Classic Cowell. Gotta love him. And I still do. Hear that, Cowell? Lambert still loves you, as much as the first day you said yes he could go to Hollywood. My support is undying, limitless and unconditional. Love Simon, and not in the way I love this fan. I love guys different ways," Adam wrapped his arm around Dylan, making him squeamish, but forcing a grin on him.

Dylan made the grave mistake of turning to look at him.

"This man's handsome, as handsome as Straight Ratliff, and he's gay, so he's my wet dream come true!"

"Eh, Adam..."

"I love you, Dylan," Adam astonished him with a deep and long kiss, way more intense than the kisses he had with Ratliff on stage. It only lasted sixty seconds, but it had Dylan drop to the floor. Then Adam said, smiling, but scared deep inside, "Now that's what I call love! His love." Cleared the throat.

Chapter 2 - Aftermath

To Adam Lambert it was all just a game, and after having longer kisses with his Phantom, immersing himself in the characterization of those fictional people the whole world most admired and still talked about to this day, Adam playing Latino Lover, much-older superstar gay-icon Ricky Martin, and Koskinen playing the Phantom of the Opera, but no cameras on, Dylan couldn't sleep, tasting that sweetness on his lips again and again. "Oh, my God, Adam Mitchel, give me more!"

The guys came into his room, carrying Todd's laptop, having just watched the video. Nathan said, "It's evident Adam hates bullies and taunters, especially when they're twenty-one and older. Therefore we've decided to stop the stupid pranking, against you anyway, leave you alone, not having realized just how deep it'd all gotten into you, because we love Adam, and we love you," they all wrapped Dylan in their arms at the same time. Pure fraternal love, "and there's nothing we won't do to prove our loyalty and devotion to both of you, so we're going to act like we're Adam's slaves and he can tell us what to do whenever he wants to, and do what he says, and only prank one another. Just don't intervene if you don't want to get slimed by accident, k?"

"Understood, my Crew, I love you all. I love you arrows so much that when I am around you or with you, I'm an arrow, too, facing ahead at all times."

"Arrows. Epic and definitive name for straight people. all right. Now we have to come up with a name just as imponent for the gay people."

"How 'bout the Glam People, or simply The Glam, like it's the name of a band?"

"That's what we adore about you, Dyl!" This time Todd turned the laptop webcam on and went to YouTube for another video upload direct from the webcam. As soon as everything was ready, Todd said, "All right, Kiddies, it's the Cruelcrew again, before our official name change. We're not going to cancel accout thus videos with millions of views each will be gone and then have to be uploaded again. Not fun."

"No," Sauli said.

"Right, _Sauli_, get it, Sauli? Official callback to Mr. K? OK! So it's come to our attention that Dylan's learned to call straight people arrows. Arrows have to be forced to bend. They don't bend or change directions just like that. Someone has to..." he made the gesture with a plastic curtain holder.

Dylan screamed at the top of his lungs, "Go Todd Manning! Making honor to your name! That's my man!" then he shut up and said, "Not literally my man."

"They know, Dylan. They know us. No clarification's needed, Mrs. Adam Mitchel Lambert."

Dylan got thrown back on the bed like someone had pushed him. "Shut the hell up!"

they cracked up laughing. "I hope Adam is okay with that kind of taunting. Oh, and by the way, Sauli K, cause here's Sauli M, it's all talk to get his heart racing. You'd be the real Mrs. Adam L..."

They laughed again. "Go Manning, and keep on Manning!"

"Thank you, Abel...eh..."

They couldn't help themselves. Sauli M screamed out, "Water, water, please someone have mercy upon me and bring me water, stat! A Good Samaritan, please!"

Nate ran out of the room towards the kitchen to get the water.

"Go Natester! Yeah!" Dylan called out. "Now that's what I call _love!_ Moving on...I am only Mrs. Adam Mitchel Lambert _in my dreams_! I will never be that in real life."

Having access to the video feed, Adam thought, _That's what you think. We're going to party, you, Sauli K, and me, and that will be my genuine act of retaliation. I ain't dumping Koskinen for you, I'm just fulfilling your fantasies! And you're on an official 2012-kinda countdown..._

_15...14...13..._

"Getting that outta the way, about that meet and greet," Dylan continued, "it exceeded my wildest expectations and my most fiery wet dreams, because to be honest with you, I'd never go further! With Ricky Martin if there were no Carlitos in his life? By all means, bring it on! But with Adam Mitchel..." he shook his head.

Adam repeated in his mind, _That's what you think. I'll make you beg for mercy. I am not riffing or kidding!_

"And now the guys will take over to explain our last-minute decision of a name change through a new account keeping the current one standing but idle with only the memories as uploads..."

"Right," Sauli M said, "and you will help us pick out our new name, but it's gotta have the word Crew because we will be a crew, forever, and we gotta let the world know, so you guys, we'd like comments right here on this video with suggestions on a name for us to create our new account and keep the entertainment going."

_I have a suggestion of my own._

"And we have to eat breakfast with our Glam...hey! We just came up with a name for gay people, and I want you to comment on whether or not the name is respectful or how you interpret it. The Glams, named after GLAMBERT! Yes! All right! Agree or disagree? Comment in the belowww..."

They cracked up. "Another official callback! Hint, hint!"

"So this is _fucking the end _of this video! Goodbye CruelCrew, no longer cruel, Still Arrow+Glam!" Video went off.

This time Sauli K called up Dylan. Sauli K broke up with Adam just for a few days. Love was still there, but Adam had sweet revenge to execute. Sauli K would just go about his own way, let his Glitterbear play for a while with his voodoo slave, and then become Adam's voodoo slave again. Next time...

Forever.

Sauli K was out the door. He just needed to announce it.

"Hello."

"It's Sauli K. How are you doing?"

"Sauli K, I want you to know you're my lovestar, too just cause you make my Idol happy."

"Yes, but I need to go back home," Koskinen lied, "'cause something came up. Family emergency. Details withheld, celebrity justification, and everyone knows long-distance relationships seldom work. Therefore, my romance with Mr. Lambert, younger Mr. Lambert, of course, has got to end. I'm not crying because as the adage goes, 'If you love something, let it go. If it comes back it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was.' Something like that."

"Reword it how you like, the message stays the same."

"Exactly. I'm going to focus on family and let my man be free. I don't have to have him by me and in my bed for him to stay mine. He will always be my man because there are walls you can't break down, reference to the song _Sleepwalker,_ and when you compare significant other to family...come on."

"Yes...if we were on opposite sides but in the same predicament, I'd let him be with you, too, because if you're calling me with confidential info only you and Mr. L. know..."

"You got my message. Success. OK, now back to my homeland. My stay is not indefinite over there. Family member sick, not dying. In reference to _The Terminator_, 'I'll be back'."

Dylan shed tears, unaware this relationship wasn't stalling and it was all a setup. They wouldn't have a threesome with him. Koskinen would just have a night out and have Glambert execute his master plan. The true slavery would take place a while from now, when Koskinen and Lambert's relationship were over for real.

Not impossible. Imminent, but no specific time frame.

11...10...9...8...

And the clock kept ticking. And the hours kept passing.

That night, thinking he'd only provide his idol with a little peptalk to make him feel better like Adam did every time Dylan listened to _Strut_ or _Surefire Winners_ on his iPod after a shitty moment, Dylan knocked on the door to Adam's five-star hotel room, but not exactly the most luxurious sweet. Adam had switched rooms because this was sweet revenge, wrong action for the right reasons, not a diabolical plot covered in riches and diamonds.

Scary shit.

Adam opened the door, crying, but his tears weren't fake. He interpreted this as some kind of alternate reality where another man would tear him and Koskinen apart.

In real life, not a chance. There were only two men that could tear Adauli apart: Adam Lambert and Sauli Koskinen. No one else.

Still Adam wasn't as supernatural as everyone thought, just talented, sweet and charming. Hu-man. He didn't know that. Adam had been watching too many sad movies that had ended in death of the main characters of those stories.

Bommer.

"Eh, Adam, I am sorry about what happened between you and Sauli K. Almost a year." He started crying right along with Adam and fell into his arms. "I just hate it when people I love keep losing their loved ones they can't live without over and over again! Shit!" They hugged even tighter. "What's wrong, Adam Mitchel?" he slapped Adam. "If it's you the one that keeps tearing you and your boyfriends apart I'm going to beat you up. I'm not kidding. If my Idol turns out to be his own obstacle to his happiness, I'd rather give you a rude wake up call by slapping you till both my hands burned on both sides."

"Help me out, I don't know what to do!" screamed Adam. "I feel I'm going to lose the man I love just because I wasn't meant for him! You're right, I keep pushing away from me the men I love without even realizing it, and I don't know what my problem is! Sauli's just using this as a scapegoat. I have a feeling he lied to run far, far away from me!"

"Adam, he called me up and gave me abstract info," he showed him a digital voice-recording device, "and I recorded it because it's for your ears only, and it's not a criminal case inadmissible evidence or anything of that sort. Have a listen to this tune."

Adam played the only recording on the device. When the conversation stopped, he was like, "OK, so he didn't lie." He handed the recorder back to Dylan. "Thank you for saving my relationship from my own deep-rooted childhood insecurities that keep creeping up on me, of always thinking they look down upon me 'cause I'm weird and zany...my Glitterbear would never lie to me because he hasn't so far. Stupid me. Don't idolize me too much knowing sometimes I can't see the writing on the wall."

"Adam Mitchel..."

"I love the way you call me by my whole name..."

"Anyway...that doesn't make us stupid, but human. No human being on this earth, in real life, can see the writing on the wall all the time. Most times we don't see it 'cause we're too busy focusing on the least-important things. Not our fault. We always fall short. That's why I insist on believing in the Almighty although the Holy Bible condemns my lifestyle. That was the reason for the Cain, Abel...get it? We weren't making fun. We'd never blaspheme. We were simply reminiscing, making references. That's why when you said 'Oh, my _God_,' we just knew we'd messed up big time."

"Thank you."

"What can I do to take your tears away just for a while? You know I'd do anything." He took his jacket off. "Just tell me exactly what to do." He let go of his shirt and dropped it on to the floor. Stepped forward. "Is this the only way?"

"For someone like you it is," Adam said, walking closer, taking this once in a lifetime opportunity, "because I've been watching you on YouTube for over two years. When I started on American Idol," he started caressing the face, "that's when the demonstrations of passionate and unlimited love to a star, to an idol, started, from the very first audition airing on January 2009. After all the things you've said and done in your Lambert universe, after the call out to Simon Cowell, after your renditions of my songs, original, unauthorized releases, and American-Idol stage performances, and all the direct responses to every detractor that was causing a ruckus on YouTube and in other sites, like the insensitive people who almost destroyed my career when it had just launched, think about it, and think _hard," _Adam whispered right in his ear. "What else could there possibly left for you to do to prove your love to me?"

Skipping breaths and losing oxygen, Dylan said, "Oh, my...Oh, my God...oh, my...I can't help calling back, oh, my God...!"

"This is literally the only thing you haven't done, right? You've even crossed the line by _kissing me_, so after all that, why stop now? Why not go all the way and get it over with? Perhaps if you get me and have me you won't feel like I'm going to cause you cardiac arrest or something. Take a shower with me. If you know this is clandestine, fall short again, not being able to help it as a human you are, no matter how hard you try, and the lights will be off. That way you'll feel like the Only One you owe answers and explanations to is watching, no one else. Let me be your dark angel..."

Chapter 3

Getting what he wanted after over two years felt so damn good the morning after. Relief rather than release. Release would only arrive to him when he found his true and reachable love, but he knew Koskinen had told a twisted white lie to not make him feel guilty for coming between him and Lambert. Lambert had only been his for one night, and that was all he needed to stop feeling his heart coming up to his mouth at the mere appearance of an image of Adam Lambert. He'd still turn his head the other way at the mere random pronounciation of the name Adam Lambert or even the name Adam with no last name, for any reason, but he wouldn't feel at the brink of death at the minimal contact.

Or so he thought.

Cause Lambert wouldn't be his for the taking and the keeping now...

But the resuming of this clandestine romance between a literally dark angel and a light angel was imminent, not an if, but a when. And if these men looked in the eyes again, it didn't matter how far down the road from today. The love would remain the same, and the longing...one of them would end up with a broken heart, and getting his heart broken was what turned human, homosexual man Adam Lambert into the closest representation of a true Dark Angel of Song.

January 29, 2012

Adam thought nothing about today. Just complying with another tour date. Adam Lambert had forgotten about his own birthday. It was all about the fans. The New GlambertCrew had transformed the way he thought about his helpless, devoted fans. He'd become just as devoted to them. Glambert was his fans' fan. Typical Glambert. When someone succeeded in transforming him, it would be forever. Adam was still Adam Mitchel Lambert. Nothing would make him forget who he was born as and who he'd been for the first twenty-six years of his life, before American Idol. He was just not birthday boy today, at least not before getting off that stage. Today was the birthday of his Glitterbabies, his Glamberts, his fans. He would act like it was them born today, not him. Adam wouldn't focus on Adam until he got off that stage.

Tonight...

Adam could've never expected what was next. The producer of the tour stopped the show all of a sudden and killed the lights. The microphone was off but the fans could still hear Adam freaking out loud and clear. "What did I do? What the hell did I do? What the fuck's going on? This is my concert, why are you guys stopping my concert reprimanding me like I am a child for the first time since this whole thing started, huh?"

When the lights came back on, there were candles all around and the biggest cake the world had ever seen. It wouldn't be enough for every single one of the 50,000 fans gathered in the arena to have a piece, but the important thing today was to make Adam feel good. They made Adam cry like a helpless child again, literally bringing him to his knees again, but this time it was the right way and for all the right reasons. "Oh, my God, you guys, I've run out of words to describe you! You're far more amazing than I could ever be! I could never come up with this, you've made me dumb now!"

Everyone surrounded him and Leila, Eber, and Neil Lambert, along with Dani Stori, Adam's crew, and Koskinen, once again disguised, now as Freddie Krueger, but with a mask on instead of a burnt face, wrapped him in his arms. Adam had every single fan do the same thing. The floor could've collapsed, but it didn't. The production crew had made damn sure it wouldn't because they were expecting something like this. There was no underestimating the power of a fan's love.

"I've said all I could've possibly said because I am at a loss for words right now," Adam's voice was breaking down, "and I don't think I am going to be able to perform today anyway, so..."

"Sing, sing, sing, sing, sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!" The audience chanted as they retook their original places.

"A singer performing with a broken voice? Only I would do something like that for you with all honesty 'cause I know there wouldn't be anything you guys wouldn't do for me, and after all the love that a group of ten fans showed me in the name of all 40,000 of you, eh..."

"50,000," Ratliff whispered in his ear.

"Ah...ah...well, I missed by 10,000, so I guess I am going to sing a few numbers for you! I hope you don't mind me singing with a broken voice. You're not the kinda judge that points out every setback during a performance, now are you?"

They screamed, "No!" piercing Adam's eardrums.

Adam didn't even touch his ears to keep them from noting it. "All right! So my first number is my first true single ever, making official the beginning of this journey and the song that could've cost me everything, not because of the lyrics or the sexy beat, but because I...you know...I remind my harshest critics of that every day by kissing Ratliff over there until his breath goes out and he faints!"

Adam and Ratliff had another kiss for the stage, but just on the lips, and everyone cheered. Adam read a sign that said, ADAM OWNS HIS CRITICS AGAIN LIKE NO ONE ELSE! FOREVER AN ARROW LAMBERT FAN! LONG LIVE GAYS AND LESBIANS! KEEP THE GLAM ALIVE!

"Wow," Adam said, "well said with that sign over there. My intention was not to own them, though, just to make 'em see I don't give a flying fuck what critics have to say because it's their job to reduce artists to shit. I only care what my fans have to say, what my management, what my family has to say. The day Mom or Dad call me out on something I did or didn't do, or Neil, yeah, Neil, too..."

Blushing, Neil couldn't help but to burst out laughing.

"The day someone in my family, or my fans call me out, that's the day I'll be owned and put in my place once and for all, but critics don't know Adam Mitchel Lambert. It's time they knew, and it's been two years. I was gay and kissing like a porn star before Idol, although I dressed the way an American Idol is supposed to dress..."

Everyone howled but it was anything but a booing.

"And I was only straight for them for a few weeks after getting my golden ticket. After that, my hair got bluer, greener, spikier by the day, and more glam. That's right, and then out of Idol and out of the closet for the critics' dismay. And the AMA performance that could've destroyed _my career_, kept my career alive and destroyed them because they were the ones ending up making fools of themselves 'cause reality is, they can say what they want! The shit talk is not going to turn me straight! I've been gayer than gay for 30 years, and after 30 years, I don't think I can change. You only change at 30 or at 50 when it was always t here and you repressed it and you could repress it no more. Right? Do you guys want me to change? It's all about you, come on now. Leila, Eber, Neil, Dani...do you want me to change? I can change for you in the blink of an eye! I can change my attire into a manly, manly, straight man and change my mannerisms even. Just tell me, yes or no."

The second no was an eternal run that made Adam throw his microphone on the floor, still facing the audience, feeling his heart skipping several beats.

Then he read another sign, bigger than life, from the GlamCrew, "OFFICIAL CALLBACK TO MILEY CYRUS! ADAM LAMBERT CAN'T BE CHANGED, HE CAN'T BE TAMED, HE WON'T BE CHANGED!"

"All right, I think that sign couldn't have said it louder and clearer. Director of the DVD release, would you please focus on that huge sign for just a minute?"

The director made sure the camera men complied.

"You read that?" Then he sang, with all his theatrical runs. "Official callback to Lady Gaga," and then sang the song completely in tune, "I was born this way" and then added a "yeah," and then sang a perfect chorus rendition of 'Can't Be Tamed'. "All right, let's get on with the show, shall we? I'm here for your entertainment!" Another seemingly endless run. And then the band started playing the track.

To up the ante, Dylan was persuaded to go on stage and then he made the statement in the name of all the fans around the world that could change everything. "Official callback to all the critics!" Adam let go of the microphone and gave him center stage. "I was sent up here for a reason, and now the Glam Glambert is in control, that's right, the gayer than gay," he made his gay girly mannerisms, "fucking pillow-biter fan...!"

The Crew couldn't stop laughing their asses off and were offered bottles of water by fans.

"I'm in control, so take the pain, take the pleasure, I'm the master of both! And I can make you feel great or make you feel like shit! That's right, so listen what Dylan Gabriel, last name, Gabriel, has to say. Critics, I know you still hatin' like maniacs on the Gay Idol."

Everybody booed the critics and there were signs all over the place saying GO FUCK YOURSELVES and middle fingers up, and in signs, too.

"Right? You still refuse to accept we have a Gay American Idol! Two years later, un-fucking believable. Well, I was just asked by Mr. Glam to perform 'Bad Romance' with him for you guys, me taking the role of the singer and him taking the role of the...whatever he fucking wants! Oh, and we've got official permission from Mama Monster, too! Go Mama Monster, and thanks for your undying support! We about to play a lovegame! Yeah! But before the number, leaving FYE to be performed at the end of the show, I want to declare my passionate, very sexual love for _my Gay Idol! _That's right! Child of the whole world, born in America, the land of the brave, and very, very gay, impossibly and limitlessly gay! Not a pillow biter, I hope, but at least so gay you type the word in Google and his photo is the first thing to pop up!"

The audience hollered and made waves. "We love our Gay American Idol!"

Adam felt the burn in the center of his chest, like his stomach was upset, but that intense feeling of...indescribable. Like a child before his idol. Roles reversed. "Oh...my...God..." Ratliff comforted him.

"I'm not telling Glam to not be passive, but I just don't want him to bite pillows because I'll be his pillow biter if he wants me to, right? 'Cause there's nothing I wouldn't do for my Glam, right?"

The fans couldn't stop screaming.

"So, Mr. Glambert, you want me to be your babe tonight?" It was all for the show, to get the fans reeling.

"Yes, by all means. Let's have a Bad Romance, just for the next three four minutes, and then another meet and greet, okay?" he whispered in his ear. "Wanna get kissed again?"

Dylan sang, "Ooh, you make me wanna listen to music again!" and the rendition was so flawless even he surprised himself blushing.

"All fucking right, monsters! Let's give it up for our next All-Gay All-American Idol! Yeah! Here it is, "Bad Romance". Mama Monster, hope you like."

They performed the number and really gave old fans, new fans and future fans a show, kissing every time they didn't have to sing lyrics. Then Adam performed the numbers that were scheduled for tonight's concert. Dylan was so exhilarated he had to go back outside just to get his oxygen back and cool down. He thought this helpless and intense feeling had gone away after what he thought would be the only night with his Sexy Idol? He'd found out the hard way.

Not. A. Chance. As a matter of fact it had just begun, and it would only intensify by the day, making his heart frail and getting it pumping. He'd have to stay away from everything Adam Lambert to recuperate normality. He was too enamored. Too fascinated. Too aroused. He needed relief.

From the waist up. Relief. Now.

Sauli M came out. "You okay, man?"

"Ooh," Dylan said, skipping breaths, "oh, my goodness, I am deep in the rabbit hole, and I can't come out. There's no exit. For one thing and first and foremost, my Idol still wants me! He invited me for a meet and greet tonight and getting kissed again. Secondly, I think my life has changed forever and ever because I've been discovered for artistic talent I didn't even know I had, Sauli M!"

"When you think you know everything about you, it takes extreme exhilaration to learn something new and then the realization of just how wrong you were. Happens to me all the time. I think I fell in love again, with Glam, and in real life, the real-life sexual hetero-erotic love, and she's forbidden."

"Why? She another man's woman?"

"She's never been any man's woman."

"Oh, Sauli M, ohh, ooh, ehh..."

"She's not a minor. Just living her sex life like she has nothing you know where. All I know is I never thought I'd even set my eyes on her, knowing her history and her standards and values, but I can't stop thinking about her. She's so sweet to me and treats me like she treats none of the other guys."

"She wants you," Sauli K said, natural Freddie Krueger voice, "and I want your dreams with her to kill you both. Start dreaming." Sauli K walked away.

Adam and Dylan met again backstage and with Sauli M entertaining Sauli K by talking about sweet Nicole, they shared another kiss. "Want to come to the hotel with me? I'll make it worth your while. I don't have an uncontrollable sex drive. I'm just fascinated. You've got that something that makes me stray, and Sauli K knows."

"I don't want to come in between the two of you."

"You're not. I just have this dolor that I need relief for. I wish you were Sauli K so I could have this feeling of lack of control and the feelings of love he ensues all rolled into one."

"What is it I do to...?"

Adam wrapped Dylan's face in his hands, making Dylan zombie-like again, conscious, but paralyzed, rolling his eyes. "It's like you're both one in the same because you look just alike," he kissed him, "it's like you're the dream and he's the reality. These LSD trips are driving me crazy. I just don't want to go to rehab because I will lose the support of..."

"The LSD trip, that's a figurative feeling, not real. I didn't know I looked just like Sauli K because to be frank I avoid pictures of him and you together because I could care less what you do in your bed, it's none of my business, and he's always walking around with a costume like it's Halloween Forever, and I haven't looked in the mirror thinking about him at the same time to notice."

"You're not blond like him, but you look just like him, the green eyes and everything."

"So that's why he's not jealous, 'cause he feels he might be losing you, not to another man, but to _his clone_. Oh, my God, I feel like I'm too deep in the world of the supernatural. Am I dead? Is this the lucid dream, taking me all the way back to the day I could've died in 2011? Oh, my..."

"So you're a...you're a walking-dead man. You're a cryonized and reanimated..."

"Dude..."

"That's the only way I could explain your exact resemblance to Sauli! How old are you really?"

"I was always told I was twenty."

"Oh, my...I mean I'm not looking down upon..."

"I know. I may have come back, but remember cryonics...wait a second...we've been brainwashed. This is not 2012. This is 2152! Oh, my God..."

The one and only man with this physique Adam Lambert knew woke up from his coma and from his non-induced lucid dream. Thinking Adam Lambert was long dead, he didn't even ask nurses and doctors for him...

Until Adam Lambert in the flesh, never dead, and fresh and rejuvenated as in his AI days, showed up in his room, holding his hand and smiling. He didn't kiss him because he hadn't met him in person yet! It was February 2011...

Back to life. Back to reality.

Long-gone freaky lucid dream turned into a nightmare, Vanilla-Sky style.

"Sauli Kos..."

Sauli helped Adam with his last name.

"Welcome back from your coma. I am Adam Lambert, American-Idol Season 8 Runner-Up, with one official album and a few successful tours under my belt, thanks to my Glam fans, and..." Adam laughed. "I just had to get here to your homeland all the way from mine to meet you and congratulate you for waking up from your coma. That freak accident you had after your gig in Big Brother...man...I lament it. You're a total Carebear. People like you do not deserve something like this. I feel so horrible I wanted to invite you to my show here in your homeland." Adam handed Sauli the tickets. "I hope you're in optimal condition to come see my show because it's tomorrow night. I'll make sure there are accommodations for you, although I was told you weren't left brain-damaged, just blacked out and refused to wake up for two years because you were having a beatiful dream with an American-Idol..."

"With you."

Adam burst out laughing. "Come on, man..."

"I'm serious."

Adam turned serious, too. "Oh..."

"I don't mean to start...but I just can't help it. I am infatuated with you beyond you being American Idol."

"I don't mind. Gay men are attracted to gay men, right?"

"I haven't had gay sex. I'd only do it for you."

Adam's eyes rolled. "More Big Brother drama?" They burst out laughing together. "Oh..."

"I want to really wake up. Kiss me right here, right now."

"In the hospital? You crazy?"

"Eh..."

"I don't kiss in hospitals. I do like you, I just have respect for places like this. I could kiss in front of a random locale but not in front of a church or inside the hospital. Church is desecration and hospital is just...patients don't come here to have sex with their visitors, understand?" Adam said, grinning and laughed again.

"So it's you initiating..."

"When I like a dude, I tell him straight out, 'Yo, I got the hots for you! I want you!' and it's up to him what happens next, only you started it all this time by telling me you were having a two-year-long lucid dream, _with me!_ So it's a done deal. If there's an agreement, a liaison follows. It's only natural. Happens between men and women, two men, and two women, right? We're adults. What else do we need to make this happen? You got me pining for you. I never thought I'd find you this hot in person."

This time Sauli laughed.

"You're just plain hot, I am hot for you, what else...?"

"I insist in my kiss. Doctors and nurses don't respect hospitals. I heard a doctor and a nurse going at it like rabbits, and they didn't give a damn about their screaming and hollering."

"This is the best I can do because I am better than that, my parents taught me better than that, and I won't lower myself to the standards of those so-called health professionals." Adam gave Sauli a kiss on the cheek. He got up. "OK, I'll see you tomorrow night." He pointed at him leaving to the door. "Be there. It's going to be one helluva show..."

To be continued...


End file.
